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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26922754">Imposter Syndrome</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceralynn/pseuds/ceralynn'>ceralynn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rhett &amp; Link</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Among Us, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Homophobia, Horror, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:42:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26922754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceralynn/pseuds/ceralynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Link is an engineer aboard the spaceship Skeld, whose crew has only one mission: getting back to Earth in one piece.</p>
<p>Or, the Rhink + Among Us AU that nobody asked for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Link really didn't know what to expect when he signed on for this position.</p>
<p>Space travel had become almost crazy streamlined, to the point where there were crews getting sent out by the dozen to man crafts with almost mundane regularity. Not that it was a job just anyone could do. Link had been chosen for his accomplishments in the field of engineering, not the least of which was graduating at the top of his class at North Carolina State University. Still, when a space program scouts you, it's hard not to feel completely out of your depth, as Link did through the whole of his training, all the way up until being shot out with his crewmates into the final frontier. </p>
<p>It didn't help that his crewmates were strangers. For all of the physical, intellectual training offered, Link wished he'd had half that time to get to know the people he'd be working alongside. To bond with the people he'd be spending several months in space with. As they ascended into inky blackness, he only knew them by name, by the vague imaginary first-impressions he'd conjured up based on that. </p>
<p>Which drove him just a little bit crazy, all things considered. In training, he'd been briefed about a rather morbid, rather extreme possibility:</p>
<p>Imposters.</p>
<p>They didn't have a hard and fast definition. It was a catch-all term for the non-human entities that wormed their way onto a ship, were often hungry for humans, sometimes hungry enough to burn through a whole crew the way bougie Youtubers might burn through a twelve-pack of La Croix. Even back in college, he'd heard rumours of ships being abandoned for lack of any living parties left to pilot them. It shook him as an urban legend then, but now? </p>
<p>Link tried to shake himself of the thoughts. He was strapped into the ship now, after all, committed, especially as the countdown began. He and nine others were in this together, and in the face of the anxiety still gnawing at him, he tried to take comfort in that.</p>
<p>Nine people he could rely on. Nine people with his exact training, exact anxieties, exact hopes.</p>
<p>Nine people who would be his family for the next several months.</p>
<p>Link let his eyes fall shut, focused on that as the rockets set him and his new found-family hurtling into the sky.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Several hours pass through their ascent, and Link's lucky enough to fall asleep not long into it. He wakes to a dull but loud alarm, accompanied by tempered light flashes that inform him and the rest of the crew that it's safe to leave their chambers. They've reached cruising altitude, so to speak.</p>
<p>He takes a breath to steel himself before unbuckling the straps securing him, standing up and allowing himself a wobble to adjust to the gravity-- which never comes. He knows space travel has been vastly streamlined, knows he shouldn't be surprised, but it's odd to stand up straight now in space, in artificial gravity so precise.</p>
<p>He brings his right wrist up to face level, looks at the NASA-issued smart watch there and unlocks it, pulls up the ship's map. He looks it over, committing to memory simultaneously tracing a path to the cafeteria, which he follows. He gets there and can't help but smile at the amount of people who matched his train of thought. It's almost like high school; half a dozen people set out at different tables, Link nervous about who to sit down in front of. But before he can contemplate it, the same watch that guided him here buzzes. He checks it, sees in his peripheral as everyone in the cafeteria checks theirs as well.</p>
<p>'TASKS' appears in a bright white on the watch screen, followed by several orders: refuel Upper Engine, check wiring in Communications, align cameras in Security.</p>
<p>When he looks past his watch, he sees his crewmates evacuating the cafeteria, attending to a similar array of tasks, and, well, he can't deny that it hurts. </p>
<p>His new family, and he can't even meet them yet.</p>
<p>Link takes another deep breath, checks his map, starts his journey to the Upper Engine.</p>
<p>They've got six months in space, right? They're bound to get to know each other somehow.</p>
<p>--</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link acclimates to life on the Skeld.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A week of the crew's time in space passes.</p>
<p>It's something Link's only able to observe through checks of his watch, through the ship's cycles between artificial day and night. </p>
<p>It's something he observes because he can't help but count the days since his last human contact, since something more memorable passing people in the hallway and nodding.</p>
<p>He's never really considered himself an extravert. An only child—a nervous, closeted queer kid growing up in the Bible belt, at that—he's had no shortage of experience keeping to himself. But it's different now, with the rest of humanity several hundreds of millions of miles away. It's different with only nine people around him, on a ship only as big as a sizable house, and he can't name any of his fellow passengers.</p>
<p>Link tries, he really does. He lingers in the cafeteria on lunch and dinner breaks. He tries to catch people as they walk past Communications or Security, trying to commiserate about particularly asinine tasks, only to be met with non-committal responses. One night, he even stays up til artificial three in the morning searching his watch for a chat function. No dice.</p>
<p>Eventually, he starts catching people walking by him in pairs. People who don't sit with him in the cafeteria because they've already determined to sit together. The first time it happens is excusable. The second, uncomfortable. The third time, Link has to abandon his tray and make what he hopes isn't too obvious a beeline back to his room.</p>
<p>He slams the door behind him when he enters, crumpling onto the bed and holding his face in his hands, one of them discard his glasses when they begin to fog. </p>
<p>He brought this on himself, and that's the worst part. Childhood dreams of finding a best friend, someone he could feel like a second half of. Never truly getting over it but certainly acting like he had, especially to himself. The barbs of it all that reality usually dulled laid bare by loneliness, by touch starvation, by his own found-family fantasy that he'd been naive enough to come up with, let alone cling to. </p>
<p>By the weight of it all building up in Link's soul, no confidant present to act as a release valve.</p>
<p>No one even to crack jokes with about the ship's name.</p>
<p>The Skeld? Really?</p>
<p>Link tries to let the humour of that name buoy him, tries to think of some jokes about it to tell to himself, but it's no use. He takes a few deep, calming, settling breaths before standing up, striding over to his room's master bathroom and splashing water from the sink over his face. He wipes the excess off with a paper towel, doesn't bother to look to his reflection. Instead, he looks back to his watch, pulls up his Task panel.</p>
<p>He can get through this. He's going to get through this.</p>
<p>If he says it enough, he's bound to start believing it.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>He doesn't.</p>
<p>He loses count of how many times he repeats the mantra, and it doesn't stick. Like everything else, Link tries to put it out of his mind.</p>
<p>He shifts his focus instead to the task he's been called to in Electrical, the panel that needs rewiring. He gingerly removes the panel's surface, sets it aside, grimaces at the handiwork left for him.</p>
<p>Whoever handled these wires last had no business doing so.</p>
<p>It's a motley bundle that Link gets to work untangling, but every time he sets a portion straight, a new knot forms. Every time he traces it back to its source, he finds a new knot there, and when he unravels it, half a dozen more spring up. He unplugs wires, drags them up through the conflicts they were causing, sets them straight, and yet, even when he plugs every into where it should fall into place, nothing happens. The screen above the panel offers no information, no recourse except to invite Link in to try and fail again.</p>
<p>And try and fail he does. Try and fail, try and fail until his fingers are shaking, until he's ready to rip the unit out of the wall. </p>
<p>It's not fair. It's not <em> fair</em>. He's accepted so many failures already, tried at least, shouldn't that—</p>
<p>"Are you okay?"</p>
<p>Link jumps at the noise, a voice beside him where he's been hunkered over the panel hole in the whole. A voice belonging to a man who stands almost a foot taller than him, golden blonde curls falling down over a forest green space suit. Link can't help but notice how the colour matches his eyes, how his golden blonde beard frames his face. </p>
<p>And this stranger can't help but notice Link's silence. </p>
<p>"Hey," he says. "Are you.. are you okay?"</p>
<p>Link blinks once, his eyes scanning the space between them like he'll find an answer there. </p>
<p>"I didn't mean to frighten you," he goes on. "Real sorry about that. I just saw you in here, messin' with wiring. You seemed kinda.. intense about it."</p>
<p>Link finds those forest greens with ocean blues of his own.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry if I read things wrong," the stranger says. "I can leave you alone, if you want. Just.. I wanted to make sure you're okay."</p>
<p>Link wants to blame it on the loneliness, the touch starvation, the everything that's been nagging at him for so long. It'd be too easy a conclusion to draw. He's had the perfect storm of vulnerability bubbling up in his soul, of course he'd let all that loose to the first person to look at him kindly. But he's also known his share of quick fixes, people with no interest in the long haul who happened to catch him at his worst, people he's glommed onto for lack of other options.</p>
<p>Somehow, even as Link recounts his lack of options, some part of him still doubts that that's what's happening here.</p>
<p>Some part doesn't hope at something greater, actually feels it.</p>
<p>Which might be all part of the isolation and touch-starving, for all he knows.</p>
<p>"I'm really not," Link admits, voice starting to waver. "Just— I've been at this stupid panel twenty minutes now. And it's just untenable. I mean, every tangle I try to follow back to its source, half a dozen more spring up, you know? And when I follow them, I lose the original thread. I keep trying, I keep plugging things in, I've got nothing to show for it.</p>
<p>"And <em> you</em>—" Link starts, flinches. "No, it's not you. It's— I'm sorry about jumping, when you spoke. It's not you. It's all me, it's the fact that just, even your voice in my ear's the most human contact I've had in weeks now."</p>
<p>He hears how that sounds as it leaves his lips, feels his face turning a shade darker.</p>
<p>"Sorry," he rushes. "Sorry, God, that's gotta be the weirdest sentence I've ever managed. Just— it's been a lot, you know? I mean, I guess. And I—"</p>
<p>The stranger treats Link to even more human contact: a hand on his shoulder that renders him mute, save for a faint gasp. </p>
<p>They're both quiet for a moment, the man searching Link's face for approval, which he readily offers, searching the man's face for intent. His grip on his shoulder tightens softly, warmly, and under his  beard, the stranger smiles.</p>
<p>"You're sorry about a lot of things, huh?"</p>
<p>Link laughs, with a fullness he hadn't felt capable of in weeks.</p>
<p>"I'm Rhett, by the way," he says, moves his hand from Link's shoulder to hover in front of him, waiting for his own, which Link takes.</p>
<p>"Link," he says. "Link Neal."</p>
<p>"Rhett McLaughlin." </p>
<p>Link feels his grip tighten on his new friends', on Rhett's fingers, savouring the contact for just a moment before letting go.</p>
<p>"Sorry," he says, hand fluttering back down to his side.</p>
<p>"You're fine," Rhett says, a tug of his cheeks indicating a smile that Link can't help but match. "You know, my break's comin' up. You wanna have lunch together?"</p>
<p>Link's smile grows and he nods. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."</p>
<p>Rhett's smile grows as well and he leads them out.</p>
<p>"Cafe de Skeld," he smirks. "What a name for a ship, right?"</p>
<p>Link giggles, nods, feels something blooming in him that he's almost afraid to name.</p>
<p>--</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link makes a friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rhett is a stark ray of sunshine across the abyss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett takes him to lunch, listens to Link complain about his loneliness, his anxieties, his gripes with the font on their watches. Rhett laughs at his jokes, supplies quips of his own that leave Link either doubled over or slapping the table or both. Rhett takes Link's tray along with his own to the disposal area, suggests they meet back up, either here or somewhere else, and Link can't take him up on it fast enough. He suggests his own room, feels a bit too forward as it leaves his lips, but Rhett grins at the suggestion, claps Link on the arm as he assures him he'll meet him there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link can't help but stare until Rhett rounds the hallway's corner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And later on, when all tasks are done, Rhett joins Link in his room, staying up late into artificial night talking about everything and nothing at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It becomes a cherished habit, what Link looks forward to at the end of everyday. He spends some mornings fluffing up the place, setting out comfort objects, instruments for Rhett's perusal, ordering up things to Rhett's taste to reach the room for dinner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett is more than receptive, more than appreciative. He quickly moves from treating Link's room like a guest space to treating it like a second home. Especially one night, when discussion drags on, when they both conclude it situated on Link's bed; when Link wakes up to his limbs wrapped around Rhett's body, face buried in the crook of his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link, of course, rears back upon realising what he's done, offers apologies that fall on deaf ears. Rhett sets his hand back on Link's shoulder, tugs him closer as he rebuffs the apologies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It gets pretty cold in here anyway," he says. "They make it that cold, I mean. Can't imagine why."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Somethin' about better sleep," Link responds, melting into it. Moving closer, even if he's still wondering if he's earned the closeness. "Ideal temperature for sleep is like somewhere in the 60s, plus a blanket. That seems excessive to me, but, I dunno. Think growin' up in North Carolina made me sensitive to the chills."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, that works out," Rhett smiles. "I run warm."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The statement makes Link run warm for a minute, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>'That works out', like he's open to this happening again, like he wants it to happen again. Which it does, though not nearly as often as Link would like.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though, to be fair, it is pretty often.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are many perks to having a best friend, even beyond reserving one's space in the crook of another's neck. There's always having a buddy to share lunch break with. There's being able to catch up with someone in the hall between tasks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is, majorly, a difference between offering your cafeteria table to someone as a single as opposed to a duo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They charm quite a few that way: Chase, their copilot, who thinks they're adorable; Stevie, a medic, who favours them with eyerolls and sarcasm. Link can almost feel the serotonin rising, growing like a gentle bubble in his soul.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's sitting with Rhett in the cafeteria, shoulder to shoulder, grinning and laughing over Rhett's words before a voice interrupts them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can't you tone it down?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's a pin direct to Link's bubble, and he looks over, half challenging, half in disbelief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett can only stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Look, it's not hard to keep that shit to yourselves," the man goes on. "You've got your own rooms, right? You don't have to make a big deal of it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're friends," Link says. "Is that quite alright with you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, I'm sure," he says, and Link tries to get a read on his badge, curses the man for being too far away. "You freaks keep it in your pants, alright? For our sake."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link fumes as they watch him walk away but Rhett's the one to break the silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Aiden Long," he says, Link looking to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"His name," he says. "Off his tag. So you can report him. So we can report him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinks. Rhett blinks, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We are gonna report him, aren't we?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can we talk about it first?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett bristles, but nods, lets them leave it at that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finds Link in his room at the end of the day, sat on his bed, shoulders hunched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So what's there to talk about?" he asks. "Why wouldn't we report this guy?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There's.. just not much that would come of it," Link responds. "It's harassment, sure, but, honestly? I've survived worse. Statements like that.. it's not pretty, sure, but you get used to it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett's eyebrows knit together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're used to it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"At least a little," Link laughs. "Growin' up gay in the middle of the Bible belt, y'get used to some folks bein'.. less than welcoming."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett's face shifts again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...you're gay?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"..yeah?" Link laughs again, more fully this time. "Wasn't it obvious?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett shakes his head and earns another laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Boy, you're more sheltered than I am."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett opens his mouth like he means to say something but Link pats the space beside him on the bed, and Rhett joins him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm gay," he starts. "And I've heard far worse than what that Aiden guy said today. I've endured worse. I had this guy—John Carson, I'll never forget him. Shoved me on my ass once, called me a queer. I was barely in middle school."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How old?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Eleven, twelve at the latest," he says, meets Rhett's gaze, which is almost too intense. "And of course it's not right. Of course, I wish things had been better for me. But where I am now.. I don't wanna sweat the small stuff, you know? Or at least, I don't wanna take it up with HR."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns away enough to laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure, if there was some magic fix I could get, buzz this dude out of my life with a word, sure, then—" He offers several goofy gestures. "—but that ain't the case."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks to Rhett, sees he hasn't been assuaged by a word of this. So he takes Rhett's elbow, tugs him down, curls back up into the crook of his neck, limbs winding round him. Relaxes further when he feels Rhett's limbs wrapping around him in return. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm okay like this," Link whispers into his love's beard. "As long as you're okay, I'm okay."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels Rhett nod, feels a kiss pressed to his forehead that he savours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Long as you're okay, I'm okay."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett repeats it above him, and Link falls into a dreamless sleep, Rhett's fingers drawing patterns on his back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link enjoys his newfound friendship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mornings are the gentlest part of the day.</p>
<p>Link wakes to the alarm buzzing and gently blaring on his watch. He shuts it off, stretches, then curls onto his side, brings his right wrist eye-level, finds Rhett's number, hits call.</p>
<p>Rhett answers after only one ring.</p>
<p>"Morning. Sleep good?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," Link smiles. "You?"</p>
<p>"Yeah." Link hears him smile in return. "Tasks?"</p>
<p>"Electrical and Communications," he says. "Looks like another boring day sorting wires. Yourself?"</p>
<p>"Boring junk in Shields," Rhett answers. "I'll find you in Electrical later. You know, after your <em> morning ablutions</em>."</p>
<p>Link's smile grows.</p>
<p>"You know I'd be happy to watch you accomplish boring morning tasks, right?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, I know. I'm happier watching you accomplish them."</p>
<p>Link laughs, then so does Rhett, infected by it.</p>
<p>"See you in Electrical then."</p>
<p>"See ya."</p>
<p>He hangs up, still smiling. It's a familiar little dance they've established, one that plays out almost every morning. One that plays out differently only on the mornings where Rhett calls him first. Or where they don't have to call each other at all, because Rhett's fallen asleep in his room the night before.</p>
<p>To Link's absolute delight, those happen almost weekly. In that time, he works up the courage to ask Rhett if he'd like to keep some clothes in his room, beaming perhaps too obviously when Rhett agrees. Even if it's only a few items of clothing, Link's honoured.</p>
<p>He also can't help but notice that Rhett hasn't stored any underwear at his place, but he tries not to think about that too much.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>They arrange for standing lunch dates and dinner dates; though after a few more comments from Aiden (comments Rhett learns to take on the chin, but still) they decide to take their dinners exclusively in Link's room.</p>
<p>And they prefer it that way, really. They get to make an event of it. Link, as gracious host, keeps his suite fastidiously tidy, sets out plating in his kitchenette/dining area. And Rhett, far more food-driven than Link could imagine being, takes great care in selecting items from the cafeteria to bring back for their feasts.</p>
<p>Sometimes, while Link waits, he'll put in a smidge more effort. Lay out a nice blanket to serve as a tablecloth. Light candles. Fold some papers up into the shape of flowers to mimic a bouquet. </p>
<p>Never all at once, of course. That'd be downright romantic. No sense inviting that.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Tonight, he opts for a blanket-table cloth; light blue, one he certainly doesn't hope might bring out his eyes. He sets out plates, cutlery, glassware, gives it a few additional minutes before he's calling Rhett up on his watch. </p>
<p>One, two, three rings, then, "Yeah?"</p>
<p>"Hey, Rhett. You made it to the cafeteria yet?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," he answers. "Yeah, I'm checkin' it out."</p>
<p>"And?"</p>
<p>"..I dunno," he says. "Nothing's grabbin' me."</p>
<p>"Really?"</p>
<p>Link can almost hear him shrug.</p>
<p>"It's all kinda.. I dunno."</p>
<p>"Do they have that chicken fettuccine alfredo you like?"</p>
<p>"Oh. Yeah."</p>
<p>Link's never heard Rhett less enthused about pasta. </p>
<p>"Okay," he says. "So, wanna pick some of that up? With some breadsticks?"</p>
<p>Link almost hears his nod as well. "Will do."</p>
<p>"All right. See ya then."</p>
<p>Rhett mumbles something that's lost as he hangs up the call. Link looks to the place settings he's laid out, has to convince himself not to lay out candles. Whatever's eating at Rhett, it's not something candles can fix.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Still, when Rhett arrives with their dinner, he arrives to Link waiting patiently at their dinner table, to a tea light candle arranged between their place settings infusing the room with a gentle lavender. As soon as he comes in, Link's on his feet, taking the tray from his hands, Rhett grabbing their plates instead. With twitching fingers they ladle adequate shares of pasta and bread onto each other's plates, carrying them back to the dining table, and proceeding to eat in charged yet comfortable silence.</p>
<p>Charged because Link can tell something's up, because Rhett knows Link can tell.</p>
<p>Comfortable because there's simply no other way around each other.</p>
<p>Link waits until they're both a fair way too full to say anything.</p>
<p>"Rough day?"</p>
<p>His anxiety spikes as the question leaves his lips. Rhett's seems to as well. He pauses mid-motion dragging his breadstick along the sauce left on his plate, then continues, brings it to his mouth and takes a bite he doesn't bother to savour before swallowing.</p>
<p>"Aiden."</p>
<p>Link frowns, aches.</p>
<p>"It's stupid," Rhett goes on. "He stupid, you know? And I— for the life of me, I don't—"</p>
<p>Rhett trails off, shakes his head.</p>
<p>"I don't say this like you deserve any of it," he starts. "Of course you don't. If I had it my way, he'd been booted back to Earth just for what he's said about us so far. But I don't... I don't get why he assumes we're a couple!</p>
<p>I mean, sure, I like you. I do. You're.. easily my favourite person here. I just-- I'm not.. that. I'm not—"</p>
<p>"Not gay?"</p>
<p>"..not as far as I know, no."</p>
<p>Link blinks. Blinks again, because he's had his suspicions, his hopes he'd been too scared to label as such. But there are fantasies and then there's living them. There's falling for your gorgeous new best friend and then there's learning he might be capable of falling for you, too.</p>
<p>There's a level of responsibility he's got to take here; a mentor role he doesn't want to fall into for want of more, a role he might just be saddled with, circumstances considered.</p>
<p>There's a level of overthinking he's probably achieving in all this.</p>
<p>"Not as far as you know?" he repeats simply.</p>
<p>"Well, I would know, wouldn't I?"</p>
<p>Link pauses. Shrugs.</p>
<p>"Well, yeah," he starts. "Ultimately, you're the person who makes that decision for yourself. But I've known plenty of folks who didn't realise they weren't straight until their twenties, thirties. Even later sometimes."</p>
<p>He pauses to smile. </p>
<p>"It's tricky, you know? You're so conditioned, so encouraged to act a certain way, be a certain way, turn out a certain way, that rebelling against it feels.. wrong. It feels like betraying everyone and everything set up around you, just by being who you are."</p>
<p>Rhett's lip quirks, encouragingly in Link's opinion.</p>
<p>"Like an imposter."</p>
<p>"Yeah!" Link agrees, laughs. "Like what you're doing is wrong. And, well, in my experience, the way many queer people deal with that is, just by stickin' together. God knows, I knew every gay kid in Buies Creek before I went off to college."</p>
<p>Rhett nods, with an air of almost solemnity.</p>
<p>"So that's what it is?" he asks. "Because we're... two weirdos teaming up, all he can think is we're.. how'd you put it? Queer?"</p>
<p>"Probably," Link smiles. "But that's not a bad thing. Least, not to anyone else but him. Allies get written off as queer all the time."</p>
<p>"Allies?"</p>
<p>"People who, uh, aren't queer, but support people who are," Link explains. "What you might be. What you probably could be, but... ultimately, it's up to you."</p>
<p>Another silence. Rhett's fingers twitch because he's out of breadsticks, out of distractions. They settle for fiddling with the table cloth before he breaks.</p>
<p>"Would you.. would you want to know, if I.."</p>
<p>He coughs.</p>
<p>"If, I mean— i-if I wasn't—"</p>
<p>Link reaches for his twitching fingers, takes them in his hand warmly.</p>
<p>"I don't wanna know anything you don't wanna tell me," he says. "I promise. I've gone through this phase. Lots of folk have, gays and allies alike. I'm here for whatever conclusion you wanna bring to me. I mean that."</p>
<p>Rhett's quiet in response. He nods, which Link appreciates, gives a little squeeze to Link's fingers in return. It isn't until Rhett dives back into his pasta that Link finally appreciates that he hasn't fucked up, that he may have done something incredibly good here.</p>
<p>They finish up, set plates aside to be cleaned. Link asks Rhett if he wants to stay the night, could swear the other man blushes at the request.</p>
<p>"Maybe next time," Rhett smiles, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to the apple of Link's cheek. He feels a blush blooming there, taking root as he watches Rhett walk away.</p>
<p>He presses a hand to it, and even as he changes into his bed clothes, even as he lays down to fall asleep, he can feel Rhett's lips on his skin. He falls asleep with his cheek against his pillow, nuzzling into the contact.</p>
<p>--</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Rhett and Link reach an important milestone in their relationship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The usual obnoxious, blunt alarm drags him into wakefulness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But quick fingers find his wrist and cut the sound off, connect to an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him close. Link grins at the sensation, at the line of Rhett's body pressed flush against his own. At the way he can feel Rhett's grin against the nape of his neck, giggling at how the hair of his love's beard moves over his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The topic doesn't come up again. Hasn't, at least. Link isn't willing to bring it up before Rhett does, is content to let sleeping dogs lie, knows that game far too well. He's content to let Rhett work through whatever he's got to work through, if indeed there's anything at all. They press forward, business as usual. But when artificial midnight draws nigh, when they find themselves in Link's room for it, he's only too eager to offer to let Rhett stay the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And against all odds, as far as Link's anxiety is concerned, he says yes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is how Link finds himself here, kissing the knuckles of fingers that linger where they've shut off his watch's alarm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Mornin' Rhett," he sighs, turning over. Tucking into the warm spot under Rhett's beard. "Sleep good?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Very."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice barely carries to Link's ears, heavy, his arms pulling Link closer, legs tangling with his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Obviously not good enough," Link smirks against skin. "Y'don't exactly seem eager to hop out of bed."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe I slept better than good," Rhett smiles. "Maybe I don't wanna step away from the good times just yet."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link beams against Rhett's skin, pulls away first only because one of them has to. That, and he doesn't want to imagine what he'd get up to if he let himself linger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You've got boring tasks to complete," he points out, sitting up. "Tasks you gotta do way outta my sight. God forbid you bore me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett laughs, hard, enough to roll onto his back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, God forbid."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link favours him with a smile before standing, moving to his dresser.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're lucky, y'know."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I am?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah," Link says, elbow deep in shirts. "My suit's light blue colour. Cyan, almost. Y'can see anything darker under it. You know, if they were gonna assign us coloured suits, they could've made that clear, you know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett lets out a non-committal hum, just watching Link bent over his t-shirt drawer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But you've got that dark green suit," Link goes on. "You got lucky. Y'can get away with anything under that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett pauses, nods. Finally stands up to join Link, to find the drawer that Link dedicated to Rhett's stuff weeks ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I did get lucky."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words leave Rhett before he's fully aware of them. He tugs open drawers of his own, pulls out t-shirts, joggers, underwear. Piles them into his arms as his face burns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll—hoppin' in the shower," he says. "See you at breakfast."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hurries off, leaving Link alone with his clothing, with the warmth of hope spreading through him in return.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They take breakfast in the cafeteria, loading up trays high with scrambled eggs, french toast, bacon, orange juice. They sidle into one side of a booth, happily dig into their meals, getting halfway through before a voice interrupts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's a bit much, isn't it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both look up, and both can feel the other's heart sinking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aiden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We get it," he snaps, slamming his own tray down onto his own table. "Whatever it is. The sooner the stop shoving it in everyone's faces, the sooner—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Would you shut the fuck up?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A silence falls over the room, all eyes on Link, including Rhett's. Those forest greens only encourage him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"My friend and I are trying to enjoy our breakfast," Link goes on. "And the only one who seems to have a problem with it is you. Why don't you try keepin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> to yourself?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link's heart pounds in his chest, but it's nothing compared to the nigh on actual fumes he can see coming off of Aiden. He hears, actually hears the grit of his teeth before Aiden turns tail and walks off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link can't help but smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So," Link turns to Rhett and smiles, in the ensuing silence. "The French toast? What say you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A laugh erupts around them, enough to douse the tension left in Aiden's wake. They start up a new, much more pleasant conversation, and their crewmates seem to follow suit. They do the usual, enjoy their meals then leave, and before long, Rhett and Link are alone in the cafeteria.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something one of them's intent on taking advantage of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett stands with Link, walks their trays to the collection area, grabs Link's wrist as if on instinct when they're both free. He tugs him along and Link runs to catch up as Rhett leads him to his room, as he fumbles for the keypad and Rhett just looks on, expression bearing a hunger Link can scarcely understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He throws the doors open, catches a glimpse of the bed before Rhett's grabbing his shoulders, turning him, lifting him up and gingerly dropping him onto the mattress behind him. He watches as Rhett joins him, travels up his body. Distantly, it occurs to Link that they haven't even kissed yet. As Rhett's mouth finds his neck, as Rhett's hips find his own, he can't bring himself to mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grinds back against Rhett's motions, one hand coming to bury in Rhett's hair, Link crying out as Rhett ruts against him. He wants more. He needs more. Needs Rhett's cock moving in him, needs Rhett whimpering into his ear as his hips press flush against his ass, as Rhett bottoms out fucking into him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His legs wind round Rhett's hips, small wishes and prayers leaving his lips as Rhett's hips still. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he feels kisses on his neck, lips almost disguised in beard as he moves from Link's collar bone, gingerly up to his ear, before he finally pulls away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wide blue eyes find deep forest green looking down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinks, watches the man above fold. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry," he says. "I'm— I didn't want to— please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> don't think this is—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's so simple, yet begs Rhett's attention so easily, and Link revels in it. Lets his hand find Rhett's cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's okay," Link smiles. "You're okay. Please, baby. Don't feel any need to apologise for somethin'.. somethin' like that. If you don't want to, you don't want to. That's fine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett blinks above him, nods vaguely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Rhett," he says, more sternly. "Promise me you know that's fine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett blinks again. Nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know," he says. "I know. I know it's fine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link smiles softly. Tugs him down into another kiss he presses to Rhett's temple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett pulls away, a smile tugging at his lips. Link pretends not to notice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I should take care of some tasks."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah," Link agrees. "You should."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett steps out, makes himself scarce. Link steps out and does, roughly, the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Around artificial five PM, Link brings his watch to his lips in the cafeteria.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you feelin' for dinner tonight?" he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a pause, Rhett responds. "Surprise me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link looks over their options, smiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright. Meet me in my room?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course, brother."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link returns to their room with two fat bowls of pasta cradled on a tray, along with drinks and silverware. He balances it long enough to type his code into the keypad, thanks his lucky stars as he maneuvers the tray inside without issue. He sets it onto their bed — his bed, he reminds himself; Rhett's laid no claim here — and tries to relax as he sits himself down in front of it. Tries not to think about what's transpired, whether or not Rhett might want to pull away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whether or not he's fucked all this up for himself before it can really begin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A knock interrupts his thoughts and Link hops up to answer it, feels waves of stress melting as he takes in the sight of Rhett at the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey," he smiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey," Rhett matches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link bites his lip, then steps aside, ushering his love, his guest in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I got us pasta," he explains, gesturing to the bowls. "Hopin' you don't mind havin' it in bed. Kind of a reverse breakfast-in-bed kinda deal."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett's cheeks raise in a grin, and Link watches him settle onto the bed, choose his bowl. Link quickly joins him. He anchors himself beside Rhett, a part of him careful not to sit too close, another part of him not worried about being careful. He watches Rhett's face as he brings a forkful of fettuccine and parm and chicken into his mouth, watches the ecstasy there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't want to say how it makes him feel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Several minutes pass in chew-filled silence, and Rhett's the one to break it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Link?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think I love you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link pauses, just long enough to feel the warmth wet his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Love you, too, Rhett," he smirks. "I love you, too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They end the night, predictably, in each other's arms. But Rhett awakes with tasks he needs to accomplish, tasks he can't bore Link with. Link sees him off with a kiss to his cheek, tries not to think about how it hurts to watch him go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries to focus instead on his own tasks. First on his list is a problem plaguing Communications. He makes his way there, squirms at the dust he can't help but notice. Communications is a bit of a ghost town. After all, they communicate through their smart watches, which give them access to all but a real-time map of the Skeld. Communications' only duty is to maintain a signal to facilitate that. And yet, sometimes tasks roulette forces people to make sure things are happening as they ought to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link reviews every machine in Communications, watches them all check out, including the last on his list before he's standing up, breathing a sigh of relief, ready to walk away from all this. Ready to make his way back to his room, back to Rhett, and with that on his mind, it's quite a clash to find a figure waiting in the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A figure gripping what appears to be a scalpel in its hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A figure that, upon closer inspection, just happens to be Aiden Long, blocking Link's only egress from Communications.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link draws shallow breath, swallows hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Now," he tries. "N-now— Listen—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Listen?" Aiden smirks. "No, I think it's your turn to listen. I've watched how you two function around this ship. I've watched you waste our time. If the two of you just act in normal, God-honouring ways, we wouldn't be havin' this conversation. But of course, that's too much for you, innit?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's all Link can do to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't like what you two are doing," he says, stepping forward. Link crowds the wall behind him, eyes moving between Aiden and the blade. "And the best part is, you two don't have to do it. You can stop anytime. Or, if you want, I can stop it for you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brings the scalpel up to Link's eyeline, and Link has to fight to fuzz growing round his vision. He can't pass out, not now. Not now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you know how easy it would be to frame you as a casualty of this project?" Aiden coos. "Slit that pretty little throat of yours, report the body, keep everyone vigilant until we went home?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link breathes, feels his consciousness mainly through the blood pumping in his ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think your boytoy would miss you?" Aiden taunts. "Don't worry, I'd take care of him, too. Even if I didn't, he'd learn a lesson, wouldn't he?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aiden moves the scalpel to Link's throat, Link's breath reacting in kind. Aiden smirks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He'd learn there's no sense in—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Screaming is the first thing Link registers. The second thing is that it's his own, the third is that it's caused by the spire now protruding from Aiden's skull, impaling the base of his head and exuding like a unicorn horn. Before he can take another breath, it's making its exit, Aiden's lifeless body slumping down between the two of them: Link and his mysterious benefactor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who is less mysterious by the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's Rhett. Rhett, with blood smatters staining both their clothing. Rhett, looking to him with desperate eyes. Rhett, who Link looks to for what feels like an eternity before he brings his watch up to his lips, before he finds the pilot's contacts, hits call.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett's eyes seem to plead with something in their own right, but Link only nods, offers a smile as the call is answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Neal?" the pilot answers. "To what does this concern?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wanna make a formal report from Communications," Link says, his gaze never leaving Rhett's. "I want to report a body."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Second pass in terse silence. "Do you know the cause of death, Neal?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not breaking eye contact with Rhett, he nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"An imposter, sir," he says. "Me and McLaughlin saw it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Covering for your boyfriend's murder is quite the milestone.</p>
<p>Come kick it with me on <a href="http://www.dongdraper.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>, where I do all kinds of stupid and gay shit.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Link gets answers, and a little something more.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charged stares get exchanged as the pilot's words ring out between them, instructing them to meet at the cafeteria. Warning them of a crew-wide call that gets put out, that they both answer, both of them looking to each other for how to respond. </p><p>Link breaks the standoff, grabs Rhett's shoulder and tugs him forward, enough to get the rest of Rhett's body on board. Rhett follows, still staring at Link, questions on his lips he can't form.</p><p>"Let me do the talkin'," Link offers, terse, but he squeezes Rhett's elbow nonetheless. They arrive in the cafeteria and he drops the contact, looks to Rhett, ensuring he can keep upright without it. Rhett wavers for a split second before he's following Link to the center-most table, sitting opposite their captain, the pilot, who could not look more put out.</p><p>He hunches over folded arms as the rest of the crew files in, settles to their lefts and rights. </p><p>"Martin," Rhett whispers to Link, whose eyebrows hitch in response.</p><p>"Pilot," Rhett clarifies. "Oliver Martin."</p><p>Oliver Martin, pilot of the Skeld, waits for his crew to properly settle in before he begins the inevitable. </p><p>"So," he begins. "Neal, you called this meeting to order. What do you have to say?"</p><p>Link swallows, steadies himself.</p><p>"Me and Rhett were in Communications," he explains. "Making sure the machinery was functioning right. Rhett— we've got a system, almost. He'll watch my boring tasks, I'll watch his."</p><p>Martin nods. "And this task?"</p><p>"As I said, we were in Communications," Link goes on. "Aiden, he— sorry. Long joined us. He... he looked around. Made conversation. Next thing we knew, we saw... saw a spire— a fang sproutin' out his forehead. Rhett and I... it was so much to take in. I reported the body, I remember lookin' to Rhett..."</p><p>And he does remember. He remembers the guilt paling Rhett's face. He remembers Rhett dragging him out of the cafeteria. He remembers Rhett's skin burning against his own.</p><p>"Then, outta nowhere, it— must've come out a vent," he says. "The way it— It was so fast. Just stuck through.. stuck through Long's, then it..."</p><p>Link shook his head. </p><p>"Went straight back into the vents," he says. "I reckon, at least. I didn't see it after that. Rhett?"</p><p>Link's baby blues find forest greens that don't return his gaze. Instead, Rhett's studying the cafeteria table, almost willing his gaze to burn holes through it for the distraction.</p><p>"I saw Long there," he says. "With Link. Then all of a sudden, it all shifted. And it was just me and him after that."</p><p>Links nods along, Martin leaning forward to join him. </p><p>"Just you two, and Long's remains?"</p><p>"Yes, sir."</p><p>"And it vented as soon as he pulled off the kill?"</p><p>Rhett nods, Link mirroring it faintly.</p><p>"That's right, sir."</p><p>Martin nods slowly, giving the rest of the table much needed space to process everything.</p><p>"Levine," he starts. "You'll dispatch the body back to the Medbay, perform the usual tests, prepare.. everything."</p><p>Stevie, hesitant, nods.</p><p>"And going forward," he continues. "We'll—"</p><p>"I'm sorry," Stevie speaks. "I mean, I don't want to say I doubt Neal or McLaughlin. But it.. is their word against all of ours. Are we sure there's an imposter?"</p><p>Another silence falls over the group as they eye each other, as multiple members take silent tallies. Chase is the first to speak up.</p><p>"There's ten of us."</p><p>"I know," Stevie says. "That's what our mission started with—"</p><p>"Started with," someone repeats. "Then we lost Aiden. Now there's ten."</p><p>Another series of looks are exchanged. Link can almost feel his ulcer forming.</p><p>"Going forward," Martin breaks the silence. "We'll stick together. Two by two. McLaughlin and Neal have already set a stellar example. So we'll pair up. Make this difficult."</p><p>The group shifts because there's a question on many minds, but Martin anticipates it.</p><p>"The imposter won't kill if it isn't easy," he says. "If it can't get away with it. It's looking to drain this ship dry. It can't do that if its members can easily track it down based on its kills."</p><p>Slowly, the people around him nod. Link included.</p><p>Which might be what preps Rhett to break the pattern. </p><p>"<em>That's </em> the best we can do?" he growls, voice tight. "We're all gonna live in fear, in terror, anxiety and distrust, til somebody dies. Til we can pin it on someone that way. <em> That's </em> your solution?"</p><p>"Rhett—"</p><p>"It's not <em> right </em> ," he yells. "I don't care what they signed up for. What <em> we </em> signed up for, it's—"</p><p>"<em>Rhett </em>."</p><p>This time the voice belongs to Link.</p><p>This time it calms him. </p><p>Baby blues find forest greens. Rhett forces his breath to steady.</p><p>"Listen," he says. "I don't like it anymore than you do. But this is the most sensible plan going forward."</p><p>Rhett blinks. </p><p>"Martin's right," he goes on. "An imposter won't risk getting caught."</p><p>He holds Rhett's gaze for just a second.</p><p>"You know that."</p><p>The speech doesn't calm everyone, least of all its intended. But they all accept the logic, Rhett included. Martin assigns pairs along what can only be called a buddy system, officiating Rhett and Link's model. The last pair he assigns is Stevie and another engineer, who are sent off to transport the body to the Medbay, perform an autopsy to glean what relevant information she can. The rest of them are dismissed shortly after, their pilot drawing up to his full height before disappearing down a hallway with Chase. Rhett and Link make their own exit back to Link's room. </p><p>There's the tension of the cafeteria that they leave behind, that Rhett's eager to walk away from. But it's nothing compared to the tension of being alone with Link, just the two of them as they make their way back to Link's room. Link is almost torturously nonchalant, swipes his keypad when they reach the door, steps inside without fanfare. No turning back, shoving Rhett by his chest, letting the door slam in his face— just the relative calm of Link stepping in, looking back to confirm Rhett's egress, to watch the door shut behind both of them.</p><p>And when it does, that's when Rhett can't hold it in any longer.</p><p>"Link, I—"</p><p>He's cut off by a sob he curses even as he swallows it down. </p><p>"Sorry," he manages. "Link, I'm so <em> sorry </em>. I swear, I didn't mean for this to happen. For any of it, least of all— what I just put you through. Put all of you through, Link, I'm so sorry.."</p><p>Large, stinging, very human tears run down his cheeks, blur his vision as he tries to process Link's reaction, and once he gets a handle enough to wipe them away, he's... surprised.</p><p>There's a blankness where he expected anger, outrage, righteous fury. </p><p>He's probably just seeing things.</p><p>"I didn't want to hurt anyone," he goes on. "I swear. You don't— obviously, y'don't have to believe me, but it's true. And that's why, when I saw him in Communications with you, threatening you, I— I couldn't take that. Link, I meant it. I love you. I know it doesn't change things, but it's true. It's why I did what I did. It's why—"</p><p>He pauses, just enough to gather breath. </p><p>"It's why I don't mind what you've gotta do now," he says, swallows. "I get it. I do. Coverin' for me, lettin' me explain, it's more than I could ask for. But I know, you can't live like this. The crew can't live like this. It isn't fair to—"</p><p>Link brings up a hand to cut Rhett off before his voice can manage, several half-managed syllables leaving before he really speaks.</p><p>"Hold on a sec," he says. "What.. exactly do you think you get?"</p><p>Rhett blinks.</p><p>"You've gotta turn me in," he says, like it's as natural as breathing. "Report me. For.. well, you know."</p><p>Once again, Link can only stare blankly for a moment, blank at least until everything else finally registers underneath. </p><p>"Are you crazy?" he asks. "Are you stupid? You.. saved my fuckin' life. I'm not lettin' you get booted out to your death in the expanse of space."</p><p>Rhett blinks again.</p><p>"I wouldn't die," he offers, softly. "I mean— my species, we can survive outside of— better than humans, at least—"</p><p>"Not important! I'm not— it's out of the question, Rhett."</p><p>"..seriously?"</p><p>Link nods, with a fierceness that betrays a confidence he can't tell if he really believes. There's a lot to believe here, after all. </p><p>"But I do want answers," he says. "I think that's the least you owe me."</p><p>Rhett nods, anxious-eager.</p><p>"Of course. Yeah, of course." </p><p>Link nods as well, then gestures to the sofa.</p><p>"Alright," he says. "Sit down. Start talking."</p><p>Rhett does start talking, and things start making sense. He was able to blend in among the crew by stealing clothing from laundry (couldn't bring himself to steal underwear). The boring tasks that he alluded to hiding from Link were excuses to vent freely, though not with malicious intent. The knowledge base he had about Earth — enough to convince Link he'd been a resident — was one acquired through diligent study. Study that Rhett only hoped to expand by studying humans firsthand. </p><p>Link pauses, processing this. "Is that why you..?"</p><p>He trails off, shies under Rhett's gaze. </p><p>"Is that why we became friends?"</p><p>"Oh, <em> god</em>, no."</p><p>Link pauses, perks up.</p><p>"Maybe at first," Rhett goes on. "Maybe before we really talked, before we.. I don't know. Of course you caught my eye. You're human. But then I talked to you, and we talked, and talked, and.. and we just didn't run out of things to talk about."</p><p>Link blinks. Processes. Rhett lets him. </p><p>"I meant what I said," he repeats. "I love you. And I don't care about you feelin' the same, knowin' what you know. I just care about you believing me. I.."</p><p>Rhett shrugs.</p><p>"I wouldn't have done what I did for you, if you were just a human to me."</p><p>He gives Link another moment, or two, or two hundred to process before Link nods.</p><p>"So you've got Earth studies back on your planet?"</p><p>Rhett actually cracks a smile.</p><p>"Somethin' like it," he says. "Truth be told, our species don't have too many differences. We got a lot in common with humans. Just, we've got some uh.. heavy modifications built in."</p><p>"Like the spires?"</p><p>Rhett laughs this time.</p><p>"Spires?"</p><p>"Well I don't know their proper name!"</p><p>"Fangs," he specifies, then demonstrates by letting his what-would-be human incisors grow several inches out of his face, into sharp points anchored in his gums. Link looks between them both with awe, one hand coming up to touch before he stops himself. </p><p>"No, no," Rhett smiles. "Go ahead."</p><p>So he does. Soft fingers attach to exposed bone and, really, the similarities to the ones residing in Link's mouth are astounding. Rhett lets him stare for just a bit until he retracts the features, running his tongue over them settling in his mouth. </p><p>"Wow," is all Link can manage. Rhett laughs along with him.</p><p>"Guess the bottom line is, we're a lot like humanity," he says. "Just a bit more lethal."</p><p>Link lets out a high giggle. </p><p>"Trust me, humanity's got comparable lethality. Just not built in."</p><p>Rhett lets out a laugh of his own. </p><p>"So," Link ventures. "All the stuff I tried to tell you about sexuality, gender. You don't have that on your planet?"</p><p>Rhett laughs again.</p><p>"Not quite," he says, eyes focusing elsewhere. "It's.. it's different. For one thing, we've got more choice in how we look. Not at first, of course. I think the human term is.. puberty? Ours isn't an exact equivalent, but, afterwards, we generally get free reign to decide things. Though—"</p><p>Rhett blushes, and Link sees it clouding his cheeks.</p><p>"There's one thing we can't change," he says, looks to Link's eyes. "Our size."</p><p>Link nods. Tries not to let it be known what this development means to him.</p><p>"Don't get me wrong," Rhett goes on. "Venting's one thing. We can easily compact ourselves. But it's that size out of compact, we don't got control over."</p><p>Link nods, laughs, turns away with a grin.</p><p>"So y'all just gotta be big boys? No matter what?"</p><p>Rhett matches his laughter, both of them going warm red before recovering. Before Link finally sits up straight, looking Rhett in his forest greens, hand on his thigh.</p><p>"One more question," Link says, watches Rhett nod. "Few weeks ago, when Aiden was givin' us shit in the cafeteria. When I told him off and you practically dragged me back to our room. You remember that?"</p><p>Link watches him nod again, watches him blush. Smiles.</p><p>"..why were you so eager to get me alone after that? I mean, not that I don't get it. He was awful, and we.. I get it, I'm just, I'm curious."</p><p>Rhett swallows hard.</p><p>"I've had Aidens of my own."</p><p>He pauses, just long enough to throw back his head, open his mouth. Make a series of noises Link can't make sense of. Which he gathers from Link's expression when he stops.</p><p>"Kevin?" Rhett offers. "Maybe? I.. I dunno."</p><p>Link's hand finds Rhett's, and he smiles, offers it a squeeze.</p><p>"We were both in our planet's uh.. what'cha call it, NASA?"</p><p>Link nods.</p><p>"He'd give me shit for how much I cared about humanity," Rhett said. "He thought I was crazy, carin' so much for Earth. Especially, you know, the relationship between us and them. Always told me I'd meet my end by some crazy humans, if I didn't end up mercy-murdered first."</p><p>Link can only stare for a grip. Nods.</p><p>"Seeing you stand up for yourself," Rhett starts, shakes his head. "After all you'd been through I.. I think somethin' in me snapped."</p><p>Link feels something in himself snap as well, honours it with a nod.</p><p>"Okay," he agrees. "I get all that. I got one more question."</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"This explains why you started all this," he says, voice quiet. "Tell me, baby, why'd you stop?"</p><p>Rhett stares, just for a moment, then laughs.</p><p>"Because of what I am," he answers. "Because of.. what you thought I was. I couldn't trick you like that. I mean, knowing what I am now, would you have wanted me then?"</p><p>Link pauses, blinks. Swallows hard.</p><p>"No," he says. "Because I didn't know what you were then. I didn't know who you really were. The depth of your compassion, your curiosity, your reverence for life. I'm glad I didn't have you then. I wouldn't have been able to appreciate you."</p><p>His hand find Rhett’s thigh of its own volition, fingers digging into flesh. His eyes meet Rhett’s again, hoping to find him okay with. Finding so much more than approval.</p><p>"Please, <em> please</em>, Rhett," he begs. "Let me appreciate you now."</p><p>Rhett can't accept fast enough. He moves, shoves his love down onto the sofa, kisses down Link's frame, sucking nips and bruises in where he can; trailing kisses down the channel of Link's abs while Link's legs wind round his neck. He presses kisses to the swell of Link's thighs, savours how they tremble under his touch; how they threaten to straighten when he presses his lips to Link's hole, how Link's thighs cant and twitch under such ministrations. </p><p>“Rhett,” he pants above, eyelids fluttering shut. “Oh, <em> god</em>, Rhett…”</p><p>Rhett chases the approval, parts his lips to let his tongue lick a wet stripe over the tight band of muscles, revels in the high notes above him. Repeats the action til he’s penetrating Link, slow and languid, over and over and <em> over </em>, his hands just keeping Link’s hips steady as he rides tongue.</p><p>But it’s not enough. They both know it.</p><p>Link gives a quiet, frustrated whimper as he pulls away, Rhett almost dumbstruck as he takes in the sight: Link splayed out under him, cock leaking, expression equal parts love drunk and pouting, so desperate to hear whatever Rhett’s deemed important enough to pull away about, desperate to get that mouth back to work.</p><p>Which, conveniently, is what Rhett wants too.</p><p>“Link, can I..?”</p><p>He isn’t sure how to put it into words, licks his tongue over his top teeth, hopes that’ll get the message across.</p><p>And it takes a sec, but Link’s eyes go white-round-blue in recognition. </p><p>“Y’can do that?”</p><p>“If you want me to.”</p><p>Link laughs, halfway affronted. </p><p>“If I—! Rhett, don’t you make me beg.”</p><p>He laughs in his own right, a sound Link feels inside him as Rhett’s mouth finds him again. He shoves a hand down to find Rhett’s curls, fingers curling into fists as—</p><p>Link gasps, eyes wide as spires form, blunt and thick as they penetrate him. His eyes close, moans falling freely from parted lips as the lengths work inside him, brush his prostate, <em> fuck </em> him good and deep, draw needy whines from deep in his throat.</p><p>"Rhett," he moans. "Oh— <em> oh</em>, baby, <em> please</em>..."</p><p>Rhett curls his tongue as it moves in his love, sucks the ring of muscles between his lips and laves his tongue over it as he relishes the taste. He curls the spires so they brush that spot inside Link over, and over, and <em> over</em>, until Link’s clenching around his tongue, the spires, painting his stomach with his spend. Rhett doesn’t stop until his love is limp under him, savours the softness of Link around him until he pulls away. </p><p>He sits back up, moves on something almost deeper than instinct as he lays beside Link. His fangs form back into their usual shape, something he waits for before he pulls Link into his arms. Before he buries his face in Link’s hair, savours the way Link nuzzles into the crook of his neck.</p><p>"Love you, baby," Rhett feels against his skin, and those very big, very human tears burn in his eyes once again.</p><p>"I love you, too," he manages, clutching Link to him. Savours the grin he feels on his neck, like Link belongs there. And they both know that he does.</p><p>He presses a kiss to his love’s hair.</p><p>"God, I love you, too."</p><p>--</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The crew get used to living with an imposter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The crew quickly make peace with sharing the ship with an imposter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least, that's the general impression. People team up, no casualties are reported. Teams check in on one another. Everything seems fine. At first, there's a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop, some gossip about what factions might prove indiscreet. But after some time passes, trusts develop, both inside and outside of teams.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett and Link are inseparable. They're game for friendly discussions between other teams, always wish the best to those they talk to, but for the most part, they keep to themselves. They finish tasks and hole up in Link's room, curled up on his bed, cuddling, imagining their life on Earth. Rhett's especially jazzed for it. At some point, Link shows him an Earth lake on his phone and Rhett flips out, declares that they'll just have to explore it once they touch down. Link agrees, pressing kisses to Rhett's face, lips that eventually calm him, Link choosing to ride out that which he can't calm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One day, they rise with calls to an emergency meeting. They throw on clothes quickly, make their way to the cafeteria where Oliver is waiting. Rhett and Link take their place at a cafeteria table, quietly wait for others to file in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I find myself forced to report," Oliver starts. "That there has been an imposter in our midst, for two months now, and we've yet to be able to identify them."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinks. Searches the faces around him, and finding similar expressions, volunteers his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Isn't that a good thing?" he asks. "We're all alive still. The system is working. The imposter</span>
  <b>—</b>
  <span>if he's still here, anyway—he hasn't been able to hurt anyone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure, it's a good thing now," Oliver counters. "But we can't keep going like this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinks again. "Like what?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"With an imposter in our midst," he says. "Do you really think we can make it back to Earth in this condition? With the knowledge that we could be carrying a deadly passenger? You think they'll let us in?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why wouldn't they?" Link flushes, tries to hide it. "There's no guarantee it's anyone's on board. And with our track record these last few months, I mean</span>
  <b>—</b>
  <span>!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I get it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link's neck snaps to take in Rhett beside him, take in his words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We don't wanna take any chances. It makes sense."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link glares something like daggers into his skin while discussion forms around them. Agreement, dissent, some shouts as things get heated. They register on Link's periphery before he looks back to Oliver. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's decided," he declares. "We cannot bring this back to earth."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link can only stare as those around him accept this; as he accepts it in his own right, Rhett tugging him along back to their room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leads Link back, sits him onto his bed. Even gets him a glass of water that Link vaguely nurses, still torn on whether he deserves to nurture himself. He decides eventually, sips, enough to ground himself. Enough to ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What the fuck was that?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett, previously pacing the room, stops in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What was what?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That," Link snaps. "Playin' into Oliver's insanity. Why the hell are you—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's not wrong."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Link, you can't go back home with me on here," he says. "I'm a threat. To you, to humanity. I'm not gonna cost you your life, your home just because of me—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because of what Oliver said?" He stands up from the couch now, reaching Rhett's full height, as full as he can. "Rhett— he's bluffing. We'll go back down to Earth when the mission ends!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And if he's not?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett pauses, swallows hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If you end up—what? Stuck in this satellite, for God only knows how long? All of you, living out your human lives in this incredibly inhuman environment, just 'cause I won't admit to what I am?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because I won't let you admit to what you are."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It leaves Link in a flurry; he catches his breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because you don't know what you are," he says. "What you're made out to be. You're made out to be a monster, and you're the furthest thing from it. You're my best friend, my whole world, I—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Link blinks back the tears building in his eyes. Shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I won't let you do this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seconds pass, charged, wired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Interrupted by a knock at the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They look between each other for who should answer, and silent negotiations  decide Link, by virtue of proximity. He takes in a long, refreshing breath before throwing the door open to.. Oliver?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, I—hello, sir," Link offers formally, as their pilot steps in. "Sorry about the lag, Rhett and I were, uh.. discussing some things."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oliver only smiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course," he grins. "I just wanted to check in on the two of you. Particularly you, Rhett. The tragedy that occurred regarding Private Long, it really was such a shame, wasn't it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both nod. Want to look between themselves, but don't. It's a lot to relive, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Remind me," Oliver says. "It was spires that did him in, yes?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Spires," Rhett repeats, meeting his eyeline. "It was—" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Spires not unlike this?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two enormous needles sprout from Oliver's mandible, both of them flinching back at the sight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both of them staring wide-eyed at the revelation, though Link softens far sooner than Rhett.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett darts to his love's side, shields Link's body with his own broadness as much as he can as Oliver stands before them, retracting the horrible digits back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What's the matter, Neal?" Oliver offers. "Never see your boytoy's fangs before?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett lets out a screech, a series of noise bordering on unintelligible, at least until Oliver receives them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's right," he says, returns the noises. "And what are you going by these days? 'Rhett'? That a common name back on Earth?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're not afraid of you," Rhett offers, clutching Link to him. Though, honestly, Link can't fully agree. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course, you're not, " he smirks. "But don't forget, we only need one imposter's body sacrificed before we can get back to Earth. Think about your accusations. Think about who's making it out of this alive."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rhett and Link both stare as he disappears into a vent, hearts pounding, sinking back into each other as the reality of it all sinks in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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